


Bad Eggs

by sleepylotus



Series: Pearls [6]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 01:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14990255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepylotus/pseuds/sleepylotus
Summary: When Beth returns Rio's hundred grand at the waterfront a heated discussion ensues.





	Bad Eggs

**Author's Note:**

> Man, this one just would not flow like the previous entries in this series, but I finally like it and I hope you will to. :)

# VI. Bad Eggs

 

Rio remained in a black mood for _days_ after his encounter with Beth in her bedroom.

The thought occurred to him that it might be expedient to find a substitute to slake his frustrations. He did not lack for softer company when he wanted it—women liked his looks and he could be charming if he wanted to be. He could have found someone who would easily fall into his arms—someone who would not talk back to him, question him every minute, and test his self-control every second…

He vetoed the thought almost as soon as it surfaced. He did not _want_ a substitute. He wanted that saucy ginger he’d left behind in an astonished pile of aqua blue silk and frustrated desire, and he _knew_ he shouldn’t have her.

It would complicate things.

It had already complicated things. He’d never done business with _anyone_ before that he would have a problem reminding who was boss when they stepped out of line. If he couldn’t hurt her—fuck if he couldn’t even _threaten_ to hurt her—then he was toothless in this business, and he didn’t know what the goddam hell to do about it.

When he got the text from Beth that read _I fixed it. Where meet?_ he breathed an inward sigh of relief and answered almost immediately with a time and place.

The waterfront at midnight. Where better to do an underhanded deal?

Sometimes he suspected he enjoyed the theater of this business a bit too much.

When she pulled up beside his Cadillac in her mamma van it was like a kinked muscle in his heart unwound—when he laid eyes on her face it released completely. He even went so far as to smile. Not a big doofy love-struck-puppy smile, even if he felt like it inside, but a small mysterious curl of lips.

He still had some self-respect.

She barely returned it, handing him a black duffel bag without preamble, all business. It threw him off, and he made a show of counting it on the hood of his car if for anything to keep her around a few minutes longer.

“What did you do ‘bout your shopper?” he asked, flipping through a stack of hundred dollar bills. It was goddamn ridiculous but he couldn’t think straight enough to count them—the numbers kept blurring in his head. Fuck it. He’d do it later.

He stole a glance up at her from beneath his lowered lids. Her pale face was drawn, stoic, her mouth set in a straight line. Those big blue eyes were _too_ wide. She looked like she might cry, and Rio knew something was up.

“I handled it,” she answered simply. She sounded…tired.

“Imma need a name,” he prodded, but she shook her head in refusal. Inwardly he sighed. This wasn’t a game. If one of these suburban bitches actually understood what Beth was up to with her secret shopper scheme then his ass was on the line too. And Rio was not willing to go to jail for _anybody_ or _anything._ “C’mon. Give me a name.”

Beth regarded Rio carefully, gauging his mood. But in the end she could not bring herself to unleash him upon poor Mary Pat, the widow and mother of three who was a little too smart for her own good. “Beth Boland,” she finally answered. Rio narrowed his eyes, but in the end the corner of his mouth twitched in acknowledgment of her nerve.

“Let me give you some advice,” said Rio, leaning against the front of the Caddy, the bag full of cash dangling in his hands.

“Yeah?” She didn’t sound terribly eager to hear it.

“When you got a bad egg, it stinks up the _whole_ bunch till you get rid of it.”

Beth said nothing, simply weighing him with a long look that made Rio feel like he was getting a taste of his own medicine. Finally she nodded, and turned on her heel to go.

The sight of her leaving made a surge of disappointment leap in Rio’s breast, and before he could stop himself he called, “Hey.” Beth turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder. “We good?”

She deigned to turn all the way around, canting her head with confusion. “Yes? You have your money, so…”

Annoyed, Rio tossed the bag to rest at his feet, rather flippantly for someone who had been so intent on recovering his hundred grand. He’d expected _some_ fallout from their last parting. Maybe a little anger, some shouting and pointing, those eyes flashing like blue lighting right before he grabbed her up in his arms and kissed her senseless… He _liked_ that routine. But this flat despondence was so _unlike_ the Beth Boland he knew that he didn’t know what to make of it.

"Nah, I mean you and me. Are we good?"

Confused, Beth pursed her lips. “I don’t understand.”

Rio felt the hot poker of his own ire prod at his sense of cool.

“You mad?”

“No.”

“You sad then.”

He hit the nail so _precisely_ on the head that Beth had no time to hide her surprise. She knew she had no _right_ to be sad—but after Rio left her bedroom and the edge of her desire was slaked _minutely_ —as much as she could by her own hand, at any rate—the cruel reality of her situation with Rio hit her like a ton of bricks. He was young and handsome and had to be filthy fucking rich. He could have any woman he wanted, and he would never need _her_ as much as she needed _him_.

She never could have walked away from him, the way he’d walked away from her.

And she could not tell him any of this because she knew exactly how _bat shit_ it would sound to him.

She realized that she'd been standing there staring at him like a simpleton for at least five seconds too long, and she shut her mouth with an audible click.

"I’m _fine_ ," she insisted, the way anyone who is not fine does.

Rio weighed her with that gaze that made her squirm in her boots.

"C'mere." He beckoned with a long tattooed finger, and Beth eyed it warily. It sounded a bit too much like an order for her liking.

A part of her wanted to run, but a part of her knew that if she rejected him now he would not ask again. He was too proud, and she… _could not resist him_.

Before she could really give the command her feet moved of their own accord in his direction. One step, then two. One more would put her in his grasp. After a moment’s hesitation she took it, bringing herself toe to toe with Rio.

He gave her that look that made her feel like he could see straight to her soul, his dark eyes like polished ebony orbs in the low light of the docks. He surprised her again when he reached up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, and she simply could not stop herself from closing her eyes, a small sigh escaping her.

"Your man giving you trouble?"

Beth would have rather _died_ than admit the truth to Rio in that moment. It wasn’t her husband who troubled her, but the gangster king who stood before her now. She knew she was falling in love with Rio, as sure as she knew he could never— _would_ never—return that love. So when he handed her this feasible excuse for her mood she latched on to it with both hands and all thirty-two teeth.

Better yet, she didn’t even have to _lie._

“Something like that.”

Rio’s expression darkened. “You need my boys to remind him his manners you say the word, mamma.”

The small smile she offered him for this protective gesture was genuine, even though the thought of Dean at Rio’s _boys’_ mercy horrified her.

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary.” There was a hint of her usual motherly sweetness in that sentence, and Rio took some heart.

“What he do?”

Rio watched as her smile literally turned upside down. “You were right. He was faking the cancer.”

A part of her had always known it was true, but a part of her was still surprised that the man she’d been married to for twenty-years would do something so vile _to her._ But when she’d found the browser on Kenny’s computer still open to the Google search of _Why people fake cancer?_ she'd known Dean was full of shit.

“Sorry, baby. You kick him out?”

Beth sighed. “Not yet.”

Rio raised an eyebrow at that revelation. “Why not?”

This time Beth’s sadness for this particular situation was absolutely genuine. “Because he’s a shitty husband but he’s a good father to our kids, and they love him.”

Somehow the news that Beth was considering _staying_ with that piece of shit hit Rio like a knife to the heart. His expression held all the friendliness of a gathering thunderhead, and his words came sharp as a freshly honed blade. "So that's it then? You just gonna let him get away with disrespectin’ you like that?"

"I just want to do what's best for my kids. It’s not like I can tell them what he did."

"Why not?"

Taken aback, Beth exclaimed, " _Why not?!"_

"Kids ain’t stupid, honey. They know when somethin' ain’t right at home."

This sounded like a personal testament, and Rio’s angular jaw flexed with obvious exasperation.

However, Beth could not _fathom_ how she would even approach such a conversation with her kids. "How would I even... I can't! And Kenny already gives me the evil eye anytime I so much as look at Dean sideways. He'll _hate_ me."

"He givin' you the evil eye because Car Man's been feedin' him lies. You sit those kids down and tell ‘em your man made you a serious promise when he married you and he broke it every way he could."

Beth stared at Rio, aghast. Needless to say he was the _last_ person she expected to be having a conversation with about the importance of keeping one’s _vows_. "They're children, Rio. _Babies_. They won't understand."

"The hell they won't. You ain't doin' em no favors by shielding them from the world. You want Kenny to grow up thinkin' its cool to treat a lady that way?"

"Of course not!"

"And you want little Emma to grow up thinkin' it’s OK to take that shit from a man just because it’s easier to stay?"

Rio knew he finally hit a button in Beth when those eyes ignited like a blue gas flame, and her finger stabbed into his chest. "How dare you. I am _not_ staying because it's _easy_."

Rio ignored the finger in his pec, his eyes boring into hers. "Sure looks like it from here."

"What do you know? And as a practical matter, divorces cost money, which I don't really have right now. I'm more worried about keeping a roof over my kids’ heads and food on their plate."

"You need money?" Rio practically kicked the bag at his feet over to Beth. "Here."

Beth looked down, her eyes impossibly wide. "I can't take this."

"Why not? Wouldn't be the first time. Only difference is now I'm givin' it to you."

Beth looked at him, struck dumb, mouth hanging open. She searched his face for the punchline, the hook, the gimmick. But there was nothing but sincerity, his black eyes shining like obsidian.

" _Why_?"

Rio rolled his eyes to the heavens. "I really got to spell it out for you?"

Beth paid him a magnificent frown. What the actual _fuck_ was going on? What piece of this puzzle was she was missing? She was not _stupid_ but she could not comprehend what would make Rio, Gang Boss Extraordinaire, part with his precious money for _her._

"Yes!"

Rio said nothing. He reached for her, sliding his hand into her hair and pulling her to him. When his lips met hers something bent inside Beth, and _broke._ Desperately she kissed him back, her hands curling in the front of his coat, holding him to her.

_Because you still belong to him, and I want you to be mine._

Rio couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud, but he willed her to understand through his actions, to feel it through his mouth on hers and his arm around her waist, holding her against him like she was something too precious to let go.

Beth’s knees turned to jelly, and she might have slid to the ground had Rio not held her so steadily. How strange that after everything, _he_ was her rock, the steadfast anchor to hold on to in the eye of the storm.

“ _What the hell are you doing with me?”_ she whispered into the bend of his neck, the warm hollow where she hid her face from the world. “You are young and fine and you could have any girl you want.”

She felt the rumble of silent laughter in his chest, and his arms circled her shoulders, holding her to him. “Ain’t got no use for girls,” he said, looking down his nose at her. “But a _woman_ like you? Mmm. That’s worth holdin’ on to.”

“Rio…”

He traced the curve of her cheek with one finger. Vaguely she wondered if he wore fingerless gloves in case he had to shoot someone. “Why’s that so hard to believe, mamma?”

“Because I’m fairly certain I’m twenty years older than you, for one.”

Rio scoffed. “I doubt it. Why’s that matter?”

“You know it does.”

“Your man told you it matters, when he cheated on you with a child. But if you ain’t noticed, he full of shit. Fuck him.”

Beth laughed and turned her nose back into the shelter of his collar, savoring the spiced masculine scent of him. It was freezing cold outside, and he was _so warm._

Crazier yet, _he was safe._

“I still can’t take that money from you, Rio. I’ll earn it.”

“What about Car Man then?”

“I have enough to get the ball rolling, at least.”

“Hmm. OK, baby. I respect that.”

Beth felt warmth flood her from head to toe. His approval felt like a _drug,_ and she knew it was insane. She regarded him from so close, taking in the angle of his jaw, the stubble on his chin, the straight line of his nose and the sweep of his lowered eyelids. “How old _are_ you, by the way?”

He raised one slashing eyebrow. “How old you think I am?”

“I don’t know…twenty-five?”

He actually laughed aloud this time. “Baby, you funny. I’m thirty-two, if it’s _that_ important to you to know.”

Rio didn’t ask her about her own age, just looked down at her with that small half smile. Maybe he already knew? Maybe it really didn’t matter to him.

She was _ten_ years his elder, then, which maybe wasn’t _such_ a yawning gap, and she really wished she could stop worrying about it. As though he could read her thoughts he leaned down to brush his lips on hers. Miraculously her worries drifted away, as did her sense of place, and time, as the kiss turned into something slow and wet and heady as a glass of aged bourbon. It was several minutes before Rio pulled back, dragging her lower lip lightly between his teeth.

“You know, it’s a _lot_ warmer in my car. I got heated seats.”

Beth flashed him a genuine smile that made his heart skip. Somehow the thought of bumping around like teenagers in Rio’s backseat brought her joy, though it would have to wait for another day.

“That’s _very_ tempting, but I need to get back. Emma has a tendency to panic if she wakes up and I’m not there.”

Rio paid her a smile that could only be described as rueful. “OK, mamma, maybe next time.”

Reluctantly they disentangled themselves. As Beth returned to her van Rio called one more time. “Hey.”

Beth turned just in time to catch one stack of hundreds, bound in her signature bright green rubber band. “Rio, I can’t—”

“Just take it, baby. You prolly gonna need it. See you soon, yeah?”

Before she could argue more he tossed the duffle in the passenger seat and got into the Cadillac, starting the engine. It rumbled with a low purr.

With a sigh and a small curl of lips she gave him a finger wave, mouthing the words _Thank you_ before returning to her own vehicle.

As she drove home Beth’s mind filled with questions about Rio. What had his own childhood been like that made him speak with such authority? Her own parents had divorced when she was in high school, and it had been hell. Her mother turned even _more_ bitter than she had been before, and her father re-married a woman who was nearly thirty years younger than him. She supposed it had been part of the reason she’d been so eager to marry Dean just out of high school. Her own family was broken, so she’d been determined to make a new one.

And now here she was.

But it didn’t mean she had to repeat her parents’ mistakes. She would be there for her kids. She would lift them up rather than resent the burden of their existence, as her own mother had. And she would respect herself too, and not put up with Dean’s shit anymore. Rio was right on that score.

By the time she pulled into her driveway Beth felt the strangest sensation, something she’d not known in _years_ if she was honest with herself. Everything was going to turn out all right…and she owed it to the robbing of a grocery store and the _acquaintance_ of an inner city gang banger who seemed to be sweeping her off her feet…

Maybe she’d put off getting her head checked after all. If this was madness, she didn’t want to know.

**Author's Note:**

> So...this might be my last ficlet for a little while? I promised myself I would double down and get to work on releasing my next book this summer...and damn if it ain't summer already! Where does the time go? :O
> 
> Anywho....thank you so much for reading!!! Your comments make my day!!! <3<3<3
> 
> If you like my writing see my profile for info about my original fiction... <3


End file.
